If Love Was Enough
by fangirltothemax
Summary: If love was enough, her marriage wouldn't be falling apart at the seams. If love was enough, her oldest daughter wouldn't be running away to Europe. If love was enough, her youngest daughter wouldn't be starving herself to death. If love was enough, her life wouldn't be chaos. Trigger warning: eating disorder
1. Chapter 1

**I told you guys i couldn't stay away! So, i send out a warning before anyone starts this story. The main character suffers from an eating disorder, so if that is a trigger, please be careful. I hope you guys all enjoy!**

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There was something about New York in the fall that made Emma Shepherd smile. The air, still clogged with noise and the heated stench of trash and exhaust, was just slightly crisper. The leaves falling around her feet, and the nip that disappeared by midday just warmed her heart in a way she hadn't felt in a long time. She glanced at her watch, wincing, and knew even with the extra steps she'd taken to prevent it; she was going to be late. Again. Ms. Goode was constantly penalizing her for being late to class, and no matter what Emma did, she was at least five minutes late every day. Oh well.

She slipped past the lobby of the studio, waving a rushed hello to the receptionist before flinging her bags down in the changing room and tugging off her school uniform. She'd managed to get her black practice leotard on under her collared polo and plaid skirt, and girls weren't required to wear tights under the uniform skirts. Emma usually wore her pale pink tights under hers, anyway. They were quite distracting sometimes, but they saved valuable time. She didn't bother checking her reflection in the mirror; she wouldn't like what she saw anyway.

Whipping her shoulder length curls up into a bun, Emma burst into the studio, tape for her toes in her teeth. Her best friend, Hallie, already stood against the barre, rolling her eyes as she stretched. Emma hopped her way over to her, still trying to adjust her tights. Out of the corner of her mouth, Hallie whispered, "You're late, Ems."

"I know, I know. I was trying to find a library book last period and I got distracted."

Reaching her arm over her head, Hallie laughed. "Well, lucky for you Goode isn't here yet, either. No telling what she'd make you do this time."

Emma copied her movements, blue eyes wide. "Wait, are you serious? I beat her to class? Oh, she is so never living that down. Besides, today shouldn't be too bad. We're probably only doing basics and then finding out our parts for the recital."

Hallie, her sunshine blonde hair twisted high on her head, studied her friend closely. "What's different about you?"

"I don't know. I haven't done anything different."

"There's something definitely off, though. Are you feeling all right?"

Emma's narrow fingers subconsciously flew to her cheeks, and she tried to ignore how disgustingly greasy her skin felt. "No, I feel fine. Just a little tired."

Hallie narrowed her hazel eyes, but before she could press on, the door flew open, and the receptionist, Elise, breezed in. "Sorry, girls. Ms. Goode's daughter was in an accident earlier and she won't be coming in today. Class is canceled."

The class tried to look disappointed; they were supposed to live, breathe, and eat dance, but sometimes having a break from practice that lasted three hours every night was a welcome change. Emma blew out a breath, smiling as the girls filed back into the locker room to change back into their street clothes. Hallie, ever graceful in her movements and beautiful in a way Emma could never understand, pulled a skirt over her muscled legs. "So, some of the girls and I were talking- you know, before you decided to make your grand appearance- and we were going out for pizza after class. Interested?"

Emma paused as she pulled a warm sweater over her head. She was hungry- no she wasn't. She'd had a cup of coffee this morning, and had half an apple at lunch. She wasn't hungry, no matter how delicious pizza sounded. She still needed to drop four pounds to reach her goal weight. No pizza. She was strong.

"Oh, I can't. My mom's making dinner, and I promised to be home in time. She'd kill me if I wasn't."

"Okay. So are things cooling down between your parents then?"

Emma shrugged her thin shoulders as she tugged her hair out of her bun. "I guess. My dad's still not home as often, but they're both trying, I think. At least Mom is. It's- it's kind of sad to watch, honestly. She's getting desperate."

Hallie reached out and grabbed her friend's hand, ignoring how cold her skin was. "I'm sorry, kid. I'm always here, Ems. You can always call."

"I know, Hal. Worst best friend ever."

Barking out a laugh, the blonde swung her gym bag over shoulder. "Yeah, you suck too."

Emma was soon the last girl in the room. She stood there, in her tights and sweater, staring at her reflection in the full length mirror. Her hands trembling, she pulled the sweater off, leaving her shivering in her leotard. Through the thin material, every bone from her clavicle to her pelvis was visible. They were sharp, looking as if they could simply rip through the thin fabric. She ran her fingers over her ribs, feeling every dip in between. She turned around and looked over her shoulder, arching her back. Every knot in her vertebrae strained against her skin. She was emaciated looking; even with her blind eyes she could see that. But there was still fat, disgusting fat to grab on her belly, and the skin on her inner thighs still danced when she moved, no matter how many times she ran or how many times she leapt across the dance floor. There was still room for improvement.

Moving her critical eyes to her face, Emma's mood only darkened. Her cheekbones stretched against her skin, creating deep hollows in her sallow, greasy skin. Her hair at her temples was thinning; her thick dark hair that had always marked her as a Shepherd. Her blue green eyes marked her as her mother's daughter, but she was a Shepherd, through and through. Her older sister, Annie, had inherited the Montgomery genes: Flaming, gorgeous red hair and a temper to match. God, Emma missed her. Annie was studying abroad in England, much to their mother's dismay. She loved Hallie but Annie was her true best friend. She would see how sick her baby sister was. She would stop her from hurting herself, and would help her feel better. She needed her.

Shaking her head, Emma pulled her black sweater on again, and the warm skirt of her uniform. She peeled the tape off her battered feet before tucking them into wool socks and converse. As she left her second home, Emma bitterly wished the lie she'd fed Hal was true. She'd be lucky if either of her parents would even come home tonight. Another reason she missed her sister. The only good part of her parents being so distracted with work and ignoring each other was that there was no focus on Emma- or if she ate dinner. Humming to herself as she walked the six blocks home, the brunette wondered if Annie would do something about their parent's behavior. She was the brave, bold one; she had no trouble confronting those who needed confronting. Emma, on the other hand, was happy to let other people do the talking while she stood in the back ground.

Maybe she should at least try something, anything for them to remember that they once loved each other madly. They did still, Emma knew. She saw it in the way her mother waited up every night she was home for her father, or the way she always put his favorite mug out on the counter every night, waiting to be filled the next morning. They were little things, but they were filled with desperation to be noticed. Her father's signs were a little more subtle, things he'd done for so long he probably didn't even realize he was doing them. Letting the scruff on his face grow out because he knew she liked it, and playing their song in the morning while they got ready, singing along as he worked his hair into effortless looking, handsome waves. The signs of being married and once being happy.

Her front door was soon in front of her face, and Emma couldn't shake the feeling that being home before the sun set was wrong, like she was forgetting something important. Tugging off her coat her mother insisted she wear this morning and hanging it on a hook, the teenager called out, "Hello? Anybody home?"

When she was answered with heavy silence, Emma shrugged and headed upstairs to her room. She didn't often have a night not loaded down with homework, but tonight she only had to read a few chapters from _The Great Gatsby._ Changing clothes for the third time that afternoon, she pulled on a blue cami tank top and grey sweatpants before digging for her phone. She had no unread messages, which was nothing new, before sending both of her parents a text that she was home. Neither replied, which again, was nothing new. They always insisted on their daughters having their phones on them at all times for safety reasons, but rarely answered their own. Having nothing else to do, Emma read. And read. She read until she finished the book before rolling over and reading the next one waiting on her shelf. She could forget the pangs of hunger and weakness echoing in her stomach when she read.

Annie had never been that interested in read growing up, focusing more on math and science in school. They differed in more than just looks, despite how close they were. Emma's fiery sister ran track, and was offered scholarships to many different schools for her speed, but she declined them all, and opted to go to Oxford University for their brilliant science program. Her essay and accolades in high school got her accepted to the prestigious foreign university, and had taken her from her sister, who desperately hid how badly she didn't want her to go behind her immense pride. She'd left in July, and very little contact had been made sense, not for lack of trying. But four months with only three phone calls and a handful of emails were not enough after fifteen years of roommates. Emma hadn't realized she'd fallen asleep until she heard the door slam shut behind someone. She jerked up, eyes hazy. The sound of heels on hardwood announced her mother after five hours of being alone. It was only nine, which for a surgeon was basically five. Suddenly fizzing with excitement, Emma pulled on an oversized cardigan as she hurried downstairs. Her mother was already in the kitchen, digging in the fridge.

"Mom!"

The red head startled at the sound of her name but smiled brightly at the sight of her daughter. "Em, I didn't know you were home," She moved away from the light of the fridge to hug her daughter. "Hey, sweetheart. I missed you today."

Emma hugged her back tightly, realizing just how much she missed her. "Well, if you ever checked your phone, you would know I was home."

Pulling away, Addison laughed mockingly. "Ha ha. So why aren't you out with your friends after practice?"

"Class was cancelled and I had a lot of homework I needed to get to. I decided not to go."

"Okay," Going back to hunting in the fridge, her mother asked, "Did you already eat?"

Emma froze; glad her mother was turned around. But, the lie was reliable and ready on her tongue. "Yes. I wasn't all that hungry so I made a sandwich and some chips."

Sighing, Addison gave up and closed the door. "Looks like I'm having that too. I meant to get off early and go grocery shopping, but obviously that didn't happen," She looked up hopefully for a second. "Have you heard from your dad? Will he be home tonight?"

Shrugging, Emma answered in a forced light tone. "I haven't heard from him, but that doesn't mean he won't be home. I didn't hear from you either."

Even with her convincing forced tone, her mother deflated before eyes. "Yeah. I'm sure he'll be home later. It is early. Well, not for normal people standards, I suppose."

"Mom, why don't you just order take out? You know that's what you really want." Emma tossed their various collections of takeout menus on the island in the middle of the kitchen. Addison smiled as she shifted through them, searching for her favorite Indian place. She dialed the number quickly, asking her daughter if she wanted anything as she did so. She didn't frown or make any notice that her daughter was once again forgoing food.

Emma wandered back upstairs and took a quick shower, standing under the spray of water until the steam filled the bathroom and fogged up the mirror so she couldn't see her reflection. She pulled on the clothes she'd had on previously, moving lightly down the stairs again to the spicy aroma of Indian food. Her weak and betraying stomach growled, and she clapped her arm around it tightly, as if that could stifle it. Thankfully, her mother was enjoying her dinner too much to notice.

Emma stuck her head in her parent's office, half expecting her dad to be sitting at his desk. The room was disappointingly dark. Sighing, the teen trudged into the living room, where her mom sat with her dinner and a surprisingly large glass of red wine. Emma plopped down beside her on the couch, a puff of air exploding out of her body. Addison looked sideways at her, mouth full. "Long day there, Em?"

"Oh yeah. I had to deal with patients complaining all day, standing on my feet for hours in the OR, and I didn't even mention my colleagues and all of their sappy lives. Oh wait, that was your day."

Reaching over Addison attempted to tickle her daughter, but before she could graze her fingers over her side, Emma jerked away; afraid she would feel how disgusting she was. But again, she didn't truly notice. "You're a funny, funny girl. You get that from me, right?"

"I always thought she got it from me."

The unexpected voice made both of them jump. Emma smiled widely at the sight of her disheveled father at the doorway. She leapt up, ignoring the black spots that danced across her vision. She threw her skinny arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly. "Dad!"

"Hey, kiddo. How was your day?"

"Better now that both of you are home." At her comment, Derek's eyes flicked to his awaiting wife, who watched him unabashedly. As soon as their eyes met, she smiled as wide as her daughter, but her happiness was not returned.

His smile returned was fake, but what stung more was that he thought she wouldn't be able to tell. Arms still around his daughter, Derek said, "Did you have a good day, too?"

Addison tried to ignore the ever-growing pain in her heart and tried to pretend that everything was fine for her daughters. "It was fine. Long. A lot of patients."

Emma glanced between them, almost choking on the awkward, heavy air filling the room. She leaned into her dad's chest again and announced, "Well, I think I'm going to bed. Good night, guys. I love you."

She looped her arms around her mother, letting her squeeze her for an extra moment. "Good night, Mom. I love you."

Her mother held her arms for a moment, palm caressing her face. "I love you too, baby. Get a good night's sleep, okay? You're looking a little pale."

Emma nodded and slipped out of the tense room, leaving her parents alone. Addison cleared her throat awkwardly, and gestured to the takeout containers on the coffee table. "I ordered extra, if you're hungry."

Avoiding her eyes, Derek murmured, "No thanks. I ate before I left the hospital. I'm gonna take a shower before I go to bed."

Before his foot hit the first step, Addison gave it one last desperate try. "Derek, please. Talk to me."

Barely sparing her a glance, her once loving husband kept going. "Not now, Addie. I'm tired."

Addison's eyes fluttered shut as she heard their bedroom door slam shut. When she opened them, she was surprised to find tears escaping down her cheeks. She sat on the couch, defeated. Absentmindedly, she twisted her wedding ring on her finger, wondering when it stopped holding any meaning.

Upstairs, her youngest daughter stared out her window, wondering when she was going to feel human again.


	2. Stone Cold

She was cold. That was nothing new at this point. There just wasn't enough body fat on her body to keep her warm anymore. That didn't mean her body had given up. Emma hadn't noticed when the first layer of fuzzy hair appeared on her arms and legs. One day, it was just there. But she found herself stroking her limbs absentmindedly, running the tips of her fingers over the soft attempt of her body trying to warm itself. Now, she was constantly in long sleeves and thick sweaters to hide the evidence of how far gone she truly was.

Luckily it was autumn, almost winter. It wasn't odd to layer now. The added layers also added padding, making her look bigger than she was which kept people from asking too many questions. Although most people at school chalked up her lithe frame to dance. After all, ballet dancers were supposed to be thin and perfect. And she almost was.

Emma held her breath as she stood on the scale. It was the first thing she did in the morning. She didn't like to weigh herself too late in the day; life weighed her down even more. The red digitized numbers climbed from zero, and finally stopped on 91 lbs. She only weighed 91 lbs. To anyone else, this would be a cry for help, a cry for someone to stop her from killing herself. But to Emma, it was pure joy. She'd reached her goal weight. Well, her newest goal weight. In truth, her goal weight was the lowest she could reach. Emma needed to be light, so she could fly across the stage. So her dance partners could lift her up in their arms, spin her around, and make the story she was telling with her body come alive. It didn't matter that she hadn't truly eaten anything in three days. It didn't matter that her stomach felt like it was caving in. She was beating the weakness in her. She was becoming stronger. Her wristwatch beeped, pulling her out of her euphoria. It six already; time for her daily run. Pulling on a sweatshirt that used to fit perfectly on her frame, but now hung on her like a cotton shadow, Emma tiptoed down the stairs. She left her usual note on the counter in case one of her parents woke up while she was gone. She stepped out in the crisp, ever noisy New York air, breathing deeply. Filtering her lungs with the pureness of a new morning just being born. Then, she was gone.

Emma's feet beat a steady rhythm on the pavement, weaving through early morning commuters and fellow joggers. Her breaths were slightly ragged, and black spots danced along the very edge of her vision, but she kept going. Every step was a leap closer to her goal. She ran countless blocks, losing herself in the passing strangers and the familiarity of her path. The teen ran every morning, at least three miles. Her dad used to join her and they raced around the city of their hearts, smiling and panting. It'd been months since he'd even slipped on his tennis shoes. Finally, the black spots were almost taking over her vision, making the sidewalk spin beneath her feet. She slammed to a stop, her lungs aching and knees shaking. She'd pushed too hard. Good.

The teen staggered up the steps of her home at a quarter till seven, sweat dripping down her lean arms. The sun light pouring through the glass of her front door threw odd shapes in dazzling colors all over the entry way. The sweet aroma of fresh black coffee filled her nose, and Emma resisted the urge to fly into the kitchen and beg for a cup before taking a shower. She bathed quickly, running late for school. With her honey brown curls still so damp they looked black, Emma threw on her uniform and made sure that she had everything for practice later. Flying back down the stairs, the teen wasn't surprised to only find her mother standing there, already dressed for work. The house felt smaller without her father's loud presence there filling it up. She missed him. When she was a little girl, her dad was always the one to wake her up; his ever present charming smile had always made it easier. Then, both of her parents would make her and Annie breakfast, usually dressed in scrubs and bags under their eyes. It was the best part of the day. As she and her sister got older, they relied on Annie preparing both breakfast and lunch for both of the girls, the curse of being the oldest. The slamming of a coffee mug snapped Emma back to the present, and she realized her mother had been talking to her the whole time she'd been standing in the doorway of the kitchen. The teen shook her head, little droplets of water swinging of the ends of her hair. "I'm sorry, what were you saying, Mom?"

Sighing as she gathered her papers and shuffled them in order, Addison glanced at her daughter. "I'm going to be home late tonight, so you'll be on your own," she laughed for a moment, a sound more bitter than the scalding coffee burning Emma's throat. "Actually, since I'm not going to be home, maybe your father will be."

One look at Emma's wincing face sent guilt coursing through her mother's veins. "Sorry. I'm just cranky because I didn't sleep well. I didn't mean that."

Emma shook her head. "Mom, I'm not blind or stupid. I know things have been tense lately. Please don't pretend for my sake."

Moving to her daughter, Addison pulled her youngest child into her side. "I know you're not blind or stupid. And honestly, I didn't realize I was- it's my job to protect you and I guess that's what I thought I was doing. Things are tense right now, but I'm sure things will settle down. I think it's because we have half an empty nest. You're dad and I just miss your sister. That's all."

Against her, she felt her daughter nod. "I miss her too," Emma sniffed before the tear that was building in her eye could fall. "I can't believe she's not calling or sending emails. How can she be so selfish?"

Addison opened her mouth to respond, but the beeping of her pager cut her off. She sighed as she recognized the emergency numbers flashing on the screen. "Oh, baby. I have to go. We'll talk more when I see you next. I love you, Emmabug."

The teen smiled as her elegant mother breezed out the door, leaving the comforting scent of Chanel in her wake. She downed the last of her coffee, and checked her watch. A quarter till eight and Presmont Academy for Girls was twenty minutes away, even without rush hour traffic. She was surely dead. Oh well. Her motto was if you're late, you might as well be late. Slipping her backpack and her duffel over her shoulder, Emma strolled out the door, making sure it locked securely behind her. In truth, she loved her school. It was small, with only about a hundred girls in each grade eighth through twelve. It was her haven as much as the dancing studio.

The principal of her haven was not happy to see Emma drag in at 8:15 after tipping the taxi. "Good morning, Ms. Shepherd. It's so nice of you to join us."

Emma had the mind to look sheepishly at her principal. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Marx. Traffic was awful this morning."

"Yet every other teacher and student managed to get here on time."

The teen shrugged. "I'll do better tomorrow. Promise."

"Emma Shepherd, you've been saying that for five years. I didn't believe you then, and I don't believe you now. But I know you'll try. I'll ignore the tardy today, but…" Mrs. Marx shook her head affectionately. "I don't know what I'm going to do about you."

"Nobody does, Mrs. Marx. It's the enigma of my life."

Hurrying to first period, Emma cursed for school for being so intimate. Mrs. Marx had known her since Maddie had started in eighth grade. It was an old mansion, converted into a school for young women in the early 1900s. The narrow halls were covered in wood and old fashioned wall paper, and there were still hooks for lanterns by the doors. The substitute teachers hung the attendance sheets there on clipboards now. Quietly, Emma slipped into English AP, her first period class. She was the only sophomore in the class with juniors, but her test scores had bumped her up. The class was small, just like everything else, but Hallie was in there.

Ms. Allen frowned as her pupil slunk in, but not at her tardiness. No, she was quite used to that. Emma looked positively skeletal. Her arms, always slender and sculpted with lean muscle, seemed frail as bird's wings. The bags she was hiking up her shoulder as she moved to her seat looked heavy enough to snap them. The teacher cleared her throat, catching the room's attention- even the late comer.

"It's so kind of you to grace us with your presence, Ms. Shepherd. I do appreciate your attempt to sneak in. That is a difficult feat, considering there are only twelve girls in this class. Please stay after the bell."

Emma ducked her head and nodded. She pulled out her journal and began to scribble the assignment on the board. Hallie leaned over and whispered, "Why were you so late this morning?"

The brunette shrugged, but replied. "Mom and I started talking this morning and time got away from us. I mean its Monday, so I'm gonna be late anyway right?"

"You know you could at least try, right?"

"Most days I do. Today, I was just dragging more than usual. Sorry, Mom."

Hallie rolled her eyes at the sarcasm. "Hey, watch it. I worry because you're my warm up partner. That's stronger than blood in my eyes."

"Girls, please." Their teacher's call startled them both into perfect posture, facing the blackboard. From that point on, Emma paid attention. She loved learning new writing techniques almost as much as new dance steps. This was her favorite class, every day. Much too soon, the bell was ringing. Emma waited for her classmates to file out before approaching her teacher's worn wooden desk. Ms. Allen shook her head at her student's apprehensive expression.

"Emma, you know you're not in trouble with me. I've never gotten after you before for your tardiness. I won't start today. I asked you to stay because I'm concerned."

Emma quirked a brow. "Concerned? About what?"

Sighing as she came around, Ms. Allen leaned on the edge of her desk next to her student. "Emma, are you feeling okay?"

Still wary, Emma nodded. "Yeah. I feel fine."

"You just don't look…well. You're always pale and the dark circles under your eyes seem much worse than ever. You didn't look so tired even after I assigned that sixteen page essay, and I know you did the majority of it the night before. You would tell me if anything was bothering you, right? I'm here to help you."

Ducking her head, Emma pursed her lips. She glanced back at up her teacher; one of the constant people in her corner. She was sick and she knew it. But she was in control, and admitting that there was something wrong would take back that little power she had. So, she met her eyes dead on and lied.

"Ms. Allen, I assure you that I am perfectly fine. Dance has been stressful, and some crazy teacher has been assigning a huge amount of essays, but I'm okay. I swear. And of course I know I can come to you. I always do."

She studied her sweet student a moment longer, trying to read her. Emma's smile was calm and convincing, but her eyes were tired. Those startling sea blue eyes, flecked with green on the edge of the pupil. Those gorgeous eyes. In truth, the reason she was so concerned about the teenager was simple. She reminded her of her own daughter. And if her daughter was ever this ill and trying to hide it, it would rip her heart out. She wouldn't let it happen. But Emma was extremely independent, and she thought herself an excellent liar. So, Elizabeth Allen played along. She smiled at the girl, trying to convince her that she believed her.

"Okay, then. I just wanted to check on you. But if there ever is something wrong, just know I'm always here. I hope you know that by now."

Emma sighed in relief and swept up her bags. "I know, Ms. Allen. Can you write me a pass? I'm-"

"I know, I know. You're late." She handed the pre-written yellow slip to Emma with a smirk.

The teen returned the smile with her hands held up innocently. "Hey, it's not even my fault this time."

"Get to Algebra II, Ms. Shepherd. Mr. Clarke will not tolerate your lateness like I do." As soon as her student cleared the doorway, she moved back behind her desk and pulled out the rotary that had her all of her student's contact information on it and dialed the good doctor's number.

Emma took her advice and hurried to her next class. Her mind was not a fan of math. It understood it to an extent, and then struggled for a bit. Then, it wrapped itself around the material and got it down. Until now. Now, she could barely focus. She could barely think about formulas and quadratic graphs when she was so hungry. God, she was starving, the rumbling of her stomach was louder the lecture was she was supposed to be taking notes on. She hadn't truly eaten a real meal in two days. She'd been skimming by meager crackers, an apple, and coffee. Her head ached, throbbed with each thought that passed through it. The lights in the room were so damn bright, it just added to the pain in her brain. She laid her head down on her math book, hoping not to be noticed. It worked. She managed to scrape by for the rest of the class period with her chin resting on her fist. If only that could get her through the rest of the day.

Her plan didn't work. Teachers were prodding her awake with gentle words- then firm ones when she didn't perk up- all day. She practically crawled out of the school after the final bell. So, she swung by Starbucks on the way to class. But, since she was in a rush, it was iced. A large black coffee with a single sugar packet in it was the only thing she needed; the dark liquid practically ran in her veins. It sustained her. She was only a few minutes late, which by Emma's standards, was basically on time. The teen strolled into class quietly, already dressed.

The barre was almost full of girls already, but some were still on the floor, stretching or tugging on their leg warmers. Hallie waited at their normal spot, leg extended. Emma smiled at her as she approached, copying her movements. Her friend returned the grin. "Hey. What did Allen want this morning?"

"Oh, just to make sure I wasn't late for the wrong reason."

"Wrong reason?" Hallie quirked a brow.

Emma explained. "That I wasn't feeling bad or something."

Hallie rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Because God forbid something happens to her golden student. I swear she worships every paper you write."

"I can't help it if we get along well. Besides, I can't exactly stop people from adoring me, can I?"

"Oh God, stop, lest your head get any bigger. Your leotard already has to stretch."

Emma poked out her tongue with a smirk. "True."

Before their banter could continue, a graceful woman swept in, wool sweater and thin skirt impeccably matched. Her fair blonde hair was pulled into a flawless bun, not a single wisp of hair out of place. She smiled at the girls warmly, but her expression quickly slid to emotionless as she began to teach. Her advanced class was her favorite; it only had a dozen girls and four boys. Sixteen wonderful dancers who wanted nothing more than to become perfect dancers. Madame Goode was going to make them so. She clapped her hands together, and the few remaining eyes that had not yet recognized her arrival snapped to her tall frame.

"Afternoon, girls and boys. I hope you're ready to work today. And before you ask, yes Emma Shepherd, I have decided on the recital performances. Although, I warn you my decisions are not set in stone. Your performance in class and behavior all around can change my mind in a split second. Is this understood?"

A resounding reply of "yes, Madame Goode" met her ears, and she nodded approvingly. "Good. Warm ups!"

The students hopped to attention, and began their warm ups. They'd practiced the same moves for years; with the additional add on as their skills progressed. They were comfortable enough with the routine, the classical poses coming as natural to them as breathing. Emma Shepherd; her star pupil. There was no doubt that the girl would be the star of Swan Lake this year. A fluid grace flowed through her, and a love of dance so prominent that couldn't be ignored. Emma bent low into a plie, her heels perfectly together, form a perfect example. Madame Goode joined her students, taking up the end of the barre. She copied their movements, throwing her left leg on the barre and leaning forward. Emma leaned over and smiled at her.

"So I know you missed on Wednesday because Frankie was in an accident, but can I just point out that I made to class before you? And that's rare. Like so rare that it doesn't even happen once in a blue moon. More like twice in a blue moon."

Katherine Goode threw her head back and laughed. "Dually noted. I'm impressed. Though considering I never showed up, does it really count?"

In a dead pan voice Emma answered, "Yes. But in all seriousness, is Frankie okay?"

"Oui. My little Francesca bumped her head on the playground and wanted Maman. She wouldn't take no for an answer. She is fine now. A few bumps and scrapes, but handled it like a true artist."

"She's only six."

"So? You showed true artistic potential from a young age. I remember you in your little pink tutu, jumping around and begging for your toe shoes."

Emma wrinkled her nose at the image. She hummed in agreement. "Switch?"

"Oh, Oui! Tendu, my lovelies!"

Her class hurried to switch positions, but continued their quiet conversations. Emma winced as she felt the muscle in her leg protest at the new movement. She attempted to stretch out her leg again, but it didn't relieve the pressure. Her instructor frowned. "What is wrong, Emma?"

"I don't know. The muscle- it hurts."

"What muscle?"

The teen quirked her brow, puzzled. She knew the names of the muscles in her body. She was the daughter of two world renowned doctors, and she'd been dancing since she was four years old. She knew the muscles, and yet she couldn't think of the name of the muscle that currently ached in her upper leg. "Um… I don't know."

"You don't know? How could you not know? It is your body that is hurting. Where is it?"

Emma gestured with her hand, outlining the outside of her thigh. "Here. It hurts right here."

Madame Goode dropped her leg and stepped closer. She pressed on the outside of her thigh, immediately releasing the pressure when her protégé winced in pain. "That's your hamstring, my girl. You probably strained it. Ice it this evening, and as much as you can until class tomorrow. Do your best today, all right? Don't push it. I need you in perfect condition."

Emma nodded and took her weight off her leg, knowing her teacher well enough to know what she was saying. The rest of class passed in a blur. She couldn't help but feel haunted by the fact that she couldn't remember the word hamstring. A simple name, a simple word. Not a word that should've so easily slipped her mind. Of course, it was easy enough to forget a word. Anyone could do it. Telling herself that didn't help shake the feeling that it wasn't normal. Before her thoughts could lead her too far down a long and destructive path, Madame Goode clapped her hands again.

"All right, my lovelies! Class is over for today. One final thing; I have decided on the two leads for Swan Lake. For our male lead, I have chosen Tate Norton," She paused to let her class to congratulate their peer and for her pupil to smile bashfully at being chosen. "His opposite will be Emma Shepherd."

The applause that met her second announcement was somewhat sarcastic, as they all knew who was the best dancer, as well as Goode's favorite. They were happy for Emma, none the less. She smiled brightly as her name was called, blushing as Hallie squealed in her ear.

"As I've already stated, these positions are subject to change. Everyone needs to learn their part and be dedicated to this performance. Be on your best behaviors, my little stars. Goodnight, everyone!"

Emma melted in with the group of girls hurrying to the changing room, chattering excitedly. Hallie had looped her arm through her friend, beaming proudly at her. "I just knew she was going to pick you! How could she not? You're the best dancer here- besides me of course. Not that I'm biased or anything. Let's go out and celebrate! Chinese?"

Ducking her head as pulled out a v-neck shirt and a cardigan, Emma scoured the corners of her tired mind for an excuse. "Um, I don't know. I have a lot of homework tonight…"

Hallie rolled her eyes as she tugged on a sweater to fight the growing autumn nip in the air. "Come on, Emma Dilemma. You _never_ come out with us anymore. You always have some excuse," Her narrow fingers locked on Emma's wrist, effectively stopping her from pulling on her converse. "Why are avoiding going with out me and the girls? Are you mad at one of us or something? Are you mad at me? You were really short this morning."

The brunette sighed, dropping the laces she'd been in the process of tying. She moved Hallie's from grabbing her wrist to holding with her own hands. "I'm not mad at any of you, I swear. I'm sorry if I upset you this morning. I just- I really miss Annie. We've never been apart this long before, and it's really messing me up. I just don't really feel like being around people and celebrating when my other half is half way across the world."

Hallie's brown eyes softened with relief and understanding. "Then why didn't you just tell me that? I would've stopped pestering you."

"No you wouldn't have."

"Okay, I wouldn't have, but I would've done something else. I swear."

Emma leaned into Hallie's side reassuringly. "I know. You're the worst best friend ever."

Hallie laughed at their old joke. "Back at ya, kid. All right, well if you don't want to go out, do you want to do anything?"

"You know, I wasn't lying when I said I had a ton of homework. I really need to do it. I'm going home, Hal." As if to prove her point, Emma finished tying her shoes and swung her bags over her shoulder, tilting her off balanced. She swished to the door, pausing to turn around and blow Hallie a kiss goodbye. She laughed as Hallie stuck her middle finger high in the air in return. Emma sighed as she released her troublesome hair from its strict confines of a tight bun. It was one of the most unappreciated feelings in the world. She raked her fingers through her locks as she pulled out her phone, checking for missed calls as she stood on the front steps of her studio.

"No missed calls, so I assume I'm walking to an empty house, again," she muttered to herself, wondering internally if she should break her mother's no cab rule.

"I could walk you home." The husky, smirking voice startled the teen; she flashed around, grabbing for a small can of mace her father always made sure she had. Even more startling was seeing her father leaning against the red brick building with his trademark smile. Emma grinned as she hurried over, whipping her arms around his waist. "Dad! What are you doing here?"

Derek squeezed his youngest daughter tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "I got off early and decided to walk my favorite ballerina home from her studio."

Emma rolled her eyes, but let her dad keep his arm around her shoulders. "Well, I for one am glad you did. How was work?"

"Not bad. Only had one surgery early this morning, so the rest of the time I was catching up on paperwork that was long overdue. I snuck out early, as you can see. Are you-"

His question was cut off by the shrill ringing of his phone. Derek sighed, reaching for his phone and flashing his daughter an apologetic glance. He answered without checking the caller id, assuming it would be the hospital, not quite ready to loosen his shackles. "Hello?"

The voice on the other end of the phone startled him, but a large smile grew on his face. "Well, well. Look who finally managed to call their dear old dad. Took ya long enough, Annie Elizabeth."

Emma, who had been studying the pavement under her feet, snapped her head up at the name. She latched onto her dad's arm, practically pulling him down. "Annie!? Let me talk to her!"

Derek laughed, feeling lighter than he had in months. He had both daughters, sort of, hanging on him. "Yeah, that was her. She hasn't missed you at all. Forgot she had a sibling to be honest. Became comfortable with being an only child."

"Don't believe him, Annie!" Emma shouted, trying to pry the phone out of her laughing father's hand.

"Okay, okay. Here she is." Finally, he passed the phone to Emma, who snatched it gladly.

"Annie?"

"Hey, Emmabug. I missed you."

Emma blinked back tears at the sound of her sister's voice. "God, Annie. Miss doesn't even begin to cover it. Why haven't you called sooner?"

"I might be living it up in Europe, but I'm still in college. I have been, you know, busy. But you're right. I should've made more of an effort to call. I do miss my little baby sister more than I thought I could. How are you, Emmabug?"

The simple question weighed so much more coming from her sister. Her secret keeper, her vault. Had she not been walking right next to eagerly listening father, she would have spilled it all. It was hard enough keeping it all to herself. But she managed to hold her tongue. "I'm great, A. Guess what! I got the lead in Swan Lake! We perform at Christmas. Will you be able to make it?"

"To see my only baby sister dance the lead in one of the best ballet companies money can buy? Of course! I'll buy my ticket tonight. Oh, I'm so proud of you, butt munch. Are you and Dad at home? Can I talk to Mom?"

"We're not home. Dad picked me up from class and we're walking home. Did you try her cell? She said she was working late tonight."

"Yeah, I called her first. I figured you two would be together, and hearing your ugly voice was high on my priority list."

"Aww. How sweet. Anyways, that's weird that Mom didn't answer. Even if she was in surgery and saw your name pop up, she would've answered."

"Okay. I'll give her another try," Annie yawned loudly, the phone crackling. "Listen, it's already one in the morning here, so I gotta get some sleep. Midterms tomorrow. Tell Dad I said bye and love you."

"Okay. I love you, Annie. Call soon."

"Love you too, buggy. I will."

Emma hit the end call button sadly. She handed the phone back to her father, who looked concerned. "What's wrong?"

"I miss her, Dad. I didn't think it would be so bad."

"I know. I miss her like crazy. She sounded happy though, right? That's good."

"I guess." Derek pulled his daughter tighter to his side, rubbing her arm. They were almost home.

"It is a good thing. She deserves to be happy, and if that means we're a little sad, then so be it. We'll live right?"

Emma nodded, looking slightly more convinced than she felt. Their front door was suddenly in front of her, the glass not revealing any light. Her mom wasn't home yet. She looked up at her dad, prepared to ask him another question when she noticed his peculiar expression. He was pale and tense as he pushed the door open. He flicked on the light apprehensively, looking for something out of place. He found it. Hanging on the banister was man's jacket. Not his jacket. Emma noticed it too, frowning. She opened her mouth to ask whose it was, but cut herself off when she saw his face.

Without saying a word, her father moved up the stairs. Emma moved into the kitchen, not wanting to see whatever was about to happen. She ignored the urge to eat everything waiting in the fridge and poured herself a glass of water. She'd just taken her first sip when the stomping started. She craned her neck just in time to see her half naked Uncle Mark sprinting out the door. Then the shouting began. Her mother, begging and crying; her father stone cold and unforgiving. Emma looked back and forth throughout the kitchen, trying to find something to distract her. Her mother, her beloved mother, had cheated. With her Uncle Mark, her dad's best friend of all people. Was she trying to kill him?

"Derek, Derek please. I'm so sorry; please give me a chance to explain. Please I didn't mean to hurt you! Please don't go! It just happened-"

" _It just happened?!_ You screw my best friend in my bed, in my home! God, Addison. We're married, for God's sake. You are the mother of my children. He's my best friend. How could you?" Derek's voice died out at the end, anger twisting into agony and heartbreak.

Addison suddenly turned from pleading to frosty in a heart beat. "Maybe if you'd treated me like your wife instead of a roommate, this wouldn't have happened," She shook her head, and pressed her palms against her eyes. A sigh forced its way out of her body, knocking the fight out of her with a single exhale.

Emma peeked around the corner of the kitchen, here face pressed against the wall. Her mother stood there, clad in only one of her husband's tee shirt. Her once pristine makeup stained her cheeks now, tear tracks disappearing down the neck of the shirt. Her healing hands that destroyed her marriage were clasped together tightly against her chest. "Derek, please. I never meant for any of this to happen. Please it was a stupid, stupid mistake."

"It wasn't a mistake. You knew exactly what you were doing."

"Derek, I am so sorry. I can't tell you how much I regret what I did. Please listen to me. We're Addison and Derek!"

Emma felt her own heartbreak as she heard her parent's once stone solid marriage dissolve like wet paper. Her stomach collapsed as she heard her father's response.

"I-I can't look at you. I look at you and I… I just can't. We're not Derek and Addison anymore. You stay, I'll go. I'll get my stuff in the morning." With that, Emma's whole world ended with the slam of the front door. She stood still a few moments, listening to her mother sob. She stepped out of the shadows tentatively. "Mom?"

Addison's head snapped up at her daughter's voice. She'd fallen back on the steps, cradling her head in her hands. She took in her drawn in face, pale and scared and knew she heard every word. "Oh, baby. I- I didn't know you were home."

Emma stepped out farther and shrugged. "Well, I am," She avoided her mother's wet gaze, arms wrapped around herself protectively. "Are you okay?"

Her mother shook her head. "No, I'm not. I destroyed our family because I felt ignored. How could I have been so selfish?" A bitter laugh burst from her lips. "What do I do now, Em? What do I do?"

Still avoiding her eyes, Emma carefully stepped around her mother. "There's obviously nothing else to do tonight. Just go to bed," She paused at the top of the steps, and glanced back down, her entire body and soul exhausted. She was pissed, and had every right. She saw both sides of this horrendous equation and was finding her own solution. She couldn't help but add, "By the way, Annie called. She just wanted to talk to you because she missed you. Oh, and I got the lead in the show. Congratulations to me."

Her mother's crumpling face was burned in her mind, but she let her disappointed bitterness fill her up and turned up to her room without a word. What had her mother done?

* * *

 **Second Chapter! I can't really tell if this story is well liked yet, so if you have something to say about it or any questions, don't hesitate to let me know. Review please!**


	3. Landslide

Two months of deafening silence echoed in the Shepherd household-what was left of it. Emma refused to acknowledge her mother passed the bare minimum. She ignored her apologetic smiles and softened eyes that begged for forgiveness. Instead, she lived at the studio, fighting through battered feet and lightheaded moments that were becoming increasingly common. She'd dropped another ten pounds. She was positively skeletal. And to her relief and somewhat heartache, her mother still hadn't noticed. Her mother, once ever so attentive, had yet to notice the pile of skin and bones her daughter had transformed into. And it sickened her even more when a part of her mind was thrilled about the fact.

Emma sighed as she tugged her fingers through her greasy, tangled hair. She couldn't stand the embarrassed silence that emanated from her parent's- _mother's_ bedroom. Her father hadn't been home since that night, and had only made a few phone calls- directly to Emma's phone. He hadn't told her where he was; just that it wasn't New York. She was just as upset with her father, too. He had run, something he'd instilled in her not to ever do. He'd left her behind, without a second thought. She was so tired of feeling ignored and abandoned by the people who promised to always be by her side. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, frowning as she saw there were no missed calls. Annie hadn't made any sort of contact since the night of Broken Home. She had no idea about the fallen state of her parents. But Emma needed someone. Someone in particular.

"Auntie Amy? It's Emma."

"Hey kiddo! I haven't heard from you in ages. Are you okay?" Amelia sounded just as relieved to hear from her as Emma felt.

"Yeah, I guess."

"I don't believe you. I think this is more than just a phone call talk. Are you free this afternoon?"

"Um, yeah. Meet at the coffee shop on 5th? The one with the-"

"Awesome hot chocolate? Yeah, I know where you want to go. I'll see you there in fifteen." Without another word, Amelia hung up. Emma shook her head in exasperation. A resident at Mount Sinai, Amelia had truly grown up from the troubled teen she'd been not long ago. She gave credit for her maturity to Annie and Emma, claiming the two little ducks following her around deserved a good role model. She'd done her best ever since. Emma adored her, and knew she could lean on her when if felt like nobody else was there. A bit more lively than she'd been minutes before, the teen hurried to get dressed.

She sighed in frustration at the sight of her closet; she'd tried on most of the clothes in there last night in a fit of boredom and realized that they were all ugly and baggy on her. She pulled on a pair of skinny jeans that once fit perfectly but now were baggy in strange places. It only added insult to injury when she realized they were from three years ago. Her favorite sky blue cami and black crew neck sweater finished the look. Emma began to look around for her white converse when she remembered that she had flung them off her feet after class the night before. They were waiting in the hall underneath the coat stand. Emma scraped her horrific hair into a messy bun, trying to hide the damage she'd inflicted on it. She grabbed her bag, ensuring her wallet, phone, and keys were tucked safely inside. As she strode down the stairs, Emma realized she wasn't alone as she thought she'd been. Her mother was home. Flying pigs must have been circling the city. The teen attempted to just walk through the front door, but of course, her mother sat in the living room, a mess of papers surrounding her. Her green eyes flew to the foyer when she realized her daughter stood there, trying to pull on her shoes.

Addison cleared her throat before speaking. "Where are you going, honey?"

Her daughter didn't even spare her a glance. "Out."

"Yeah, I gathered that from you putting on your shoes and coat. Where are you going, Emma?"

Finally, her teen looked at her, and Addison almost wished she hadn't. The contempt and disgust in her eyes burned worse than any cut.

"I'm going out to get some coffee with friend. Happy?"

Her mother ignored the attitude she was served. "What friend?"

Emma scoffed as she checked her reflection in the small mirror by the door. The red head had enough. She got to her feet and folded her arms across her chest. "Young lady, I don't know why you think you have the right to speak to me that way. I am your mother."

The teen spun around, anger fueling her. "Unfortunately, yes you are. Not like you've been acting like one since Dad left. God, you practically start whimpering every time you see me. It's pathetic. I used worship the ground you walk on, and now I can't even stand to be around you."

Addison's hand flew to her heart as if her precious daughter's words struck her through the heart. "I…"

Emma continued. "And I don't completely blame you. It takes two people to break up a marriage, and Dad had been treating you horribly. If he were still here, I'd be just as upset with him. But unfortunately it's you."

Her mother finally found her voice. "I- I didn't realize you were so upset with me. I was just trying to make it up to you. What I did was wrong, and I didn't just hurt you and your father… Can you really not look at me?"

Emma's gorgeous eyes flicked away before coming back. "Not without seeing Dad's face," Anger rushed into her face again. "God, I can't believe you cheated on him with Uncle Mark. Uncle Mark! His best friend! You're telling me that you didn't think it would hurt Dad when he found out? And don't you dare say you didn't think he wouldn't find out because let's face it, Mom. You are the worst Montgomery when it comes to hiding things."

"Hey! I get it. You're mad at me for wrecking this family. I am sorry. It was a mistake. A big, huge giant mistake. I'm sorry, okay? I can't apologize enough for what I've done and I can't take it back. I'm just trying to redeem myself the only way I know how. Okay? Can you cut me some slack Emma? At least I'm here. I didn't run."

The teen straightened her coat and shook her head. "It's not enough." Before her mother could say another word, Emma breezed out the door, ignoring her mother's voice calling her name behind her. She strode down the street with purpose, distancing herself from that broken home she once loved so much. A part of her wanted her mother to run out after her, fight with her and showed she cared. Emma glanced back, but the door she'd just made a grand exit out of hadn't budged.

She loved New York, and everything about it. She loved its character from the great mixture of people that lived there, perfuming the air with exotic odors that somehow mingled together perfectly. No city in the world could compare to New York. Emma didn't plan on living anywhere else in her life. When she thought of home, the whole city popped into her mind. She had all she needed right there. Friends and her dear family. Especially her family- well those who still pretended to care at least.

The coffee shop materialized in front of her eyes. She smirked as she read the cheesy name hanging over the door: Roast 'em Good. It was simple and silly, but served the hot beverages in quirky little mugs that Emma adored. She and Annie had found it a few years ago during a Christmas shopping outing. The whole family knew how much the Shepherd girls loved it. Emma felt the knots of tension that had been clinging to her shoulders unwind just slightly as the warm aroma of coffee and pastries filled her nose. Worn furniture was sprinkled throughout the quaint shop for patrons to enjoy their drinks and browse the web while the soft sounds of classical music danced through the air. The barista behind the counter smiled as the teen approached.

"What can I get for you?"

Emma smiled politely as she ordered. "I'll have a coffee for here please. Oh, and the assorted cookies mix."

"Any milk or sweetener?"

The teen shook her head, and the young man behind the counter gave her a dubious look. "Okay then. You're total is five sixty-five," He took her money and spun around to pluck her change from the cash register and begin pouring her coffee in a ceramic mug with a hedgehog in a beanie on it. She smiled at the cute drawing as she made her way to a small table with two high backed green velvet chairs waiting to be used. As Emma sipped delicately on her coffee, she stared out the large window to her left. She loved watching the people strolling by, busy living their own lives. Their own stories playing out, this moment they shared as strangers on the street only a single page. It was a moment people unintentionally ignored, but once it was acknowledged, it revealed the philosophy that you are not the only person in the world, but only one star in a galaxy in a thousand universes.

Emma sighed as the warm, homey aroma of coffee wound its way up to her nose. The jingle of the doorbell barely made it's presence in her thought, just tickling the back of her mind. She was tucked safely in her own little world. The young girl was rudely jerked out of her world with the sharp voice of her aunt.

"Earth to Emma," Amelia stood at the opposite chair, smirking at her niece. Emma beamed back at her, more than excited and partly relieved to see her. She jumped up and launched her wing frail arms around Amelia's neck. "Oof! Oh kiddo, I missed you too."

Emma pulled back and gestured at the counter. "Do you want something? I'll get it."

Her aunt shook her head. "No thanks. I've had nothing but coffee for the past three days."

Emma noticed the dark purple bags under Amelia's eyes, telling her that she'd been at the hospital. She winced. 'Then why did you agree to meet me? You should be sleeping."

Amelia waved away her protest. "I can sleep anytime. I haven't seen you in ages," She cocked her head and her piercing blue eyes turned soft. "So, how is everything?"

Emma's soft, unwavering smile dropped into a steel frown. "Fine."

"Don't lie to me."

The teen sighed. "Fine. It sucks. Mom's miserable, Dad's gone, and Annie still doesn't know."

Amelia quirked a brow, snagging a gingersnap cookie from the plate resting between them. "Really?"

"Mhm. She hasn't answered my calls since that night. I don't know what to do," the girl looked down at her crossed arms and let her hands fall defeated to her lap. "I had a fight with Mom before I left to come here."

"About?"

"Me being snappy. I just get so angry when I see her! I know this isn't completely her fault- at least the logic side of me does. But when she looks at me with shameful, sorrowful eyes, I can't help but lash out. It's not fair I know, but Dad's not here for me to be upset with."

Amelia laid her palm out for her niece to take. Emma let her thin hand fall in her grasp. "It's not fair to you either, kiddo. Your normal life was ripped out from under you. You deserved to be upset. Have you tried talking to your mom? Like really talk to her?"

"Well, no. If I'm not yelling at her, I suppose I'm avoiding her. Not a very good system, huh?"

"Duh. Emma, this isn't gonna fix itself. I don't know if it will get fixed at all. But taking it out on your mother-who loves you more than life, I might add- is pointless. She's truly sorry," Amelia looked away for a moment, biting her lower lip. "I don't know if I should even tell you this, but I'm going to. Mark's been bugging her at work ever since. Begging for her to come stay with him, to start over with him. He says he's in love with her."

Emma tightened her jaw in outrage. "And what does my mother say to his advances on his best friend's wife?"

"Basically to fuck off. She wants your dad back. She wants her family. At least what remains of it. Her girls."

Emma looked away, suddenly embarrassed with herself and her anger. "I'm afraid that we're both already gone."

Amelia's brows came together in confusion at her niece's cryptic words. She studied her closely for the first time since she'd sat down. And the image before her terrified her. Her nieces had taken after their mother in the fact that they always tried to dress nicely. Annie had taken it a bit farther than Emma, but the younger girl had still always tried. But the Emma sitting across from her was not the same Emma from four months ago, when Amelia had last seen her. Emma was thin- scarily, appallingly, deathly thin. Her eyes, always big and beautiful, dominated her face, almost comically. Her collarbone stretched against her skin, ready to tear through. She could even see the top of her ribcage, every knick and dip visible. She'd only seen one girl this startlingly skinny before- a body claimed by anorexia. A model that had weighed in at 68 lbs. at death. Amelia cleared her throat softly, calling her niece's- her sweet wonderful niece- attention back to her.

"Emma, I'm going to ask you something, and I want you to answer honestly, sweetie."

The teen nodded, looking apprehensive.

"Are you feeling all right? Besides this whole mess with your parents? Like physically?"

Guards immediately slipped into place, and Emma's face switched blank. "Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Amelia. I'm fine."

Amelia shook her head, her dark hair swinging. "I'm sorry, but I don't believe you. You don't look like Emma. You look like half of her. Maybe even a third."

"What are you trying to say?"

The young doctor leaned forward, face stern. "I'm saying, Emma Cordelia, that you look sick. That you look like you're starving yourself. I'm worried."

Emma scoffed, crossing her arms across her malnourished midsection. "You think I have an eating disorder? Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"Amelia, my life hasn't exactly been great for the past few months. It's kind of taken away my appetite. I was already thin. I'm fine. Don't be such a resident. Stop trying to diagnose something everywhere you look."

Rolling her eyes, Amelia dismissed the girl's defensive attitude. "I'm not trying- look, if you're not starving yourself, then eat something."

"I'm not hungry."

"I don't believe you."

Emma shrugged. "Sounds like a personal problem."

"Stop being like that. Just eat some of the cookies."

Emma glanced at the plate that sat untouched by her on the table. She'd ordered them for Amelia, knowing how much she loved gingersnap and shortbreads. She was only eating the air that existed around her. So, she pulled her aunt's bluff.

"You eat one. I ate before I got here. Plus, I don't want a cookie."

"God, quit being so stubborn! Eat a damn cookie!" The few of the other patrons glanced at their table, and Amelia ducked her head sheepishly. "Emma, baby. I'm worried. That's the only reason I'm pressing this right now. Just humor me and prove that I'm not right. Trust me; I don't want to be right."

Emma pursed her lips. She reached out with a trembling hand and locked her narrow fingers on the edge of a shortbread cookie and brought to her mouth. She closed her eyes and let the sweet treat rest on her teeth before nibbling on the edge. She let the crumbs fall on her tongue and felt the strong resolve she'd held up for so long slither down her throat with the bits of cookie. She took a larger bit then, to please her hawk eyed aunt. The sting of tears in her eyes confused her. She was starving, and the cookie was delicious. But, it made that overpowering weakness overcome her in waves strong enough to knock her down. And that just upset her more. She felt as weak as a feather, all because of a damn cookie. The all consuming hatred that she felt for herself usually lay dormant, but now reared its ugly head. It was awake, and Emma didn't know how to quell its anger at being disturbed.

Emma turned her forcefully blank eyes back at her aunt. "Happy?" The single word was spat out with so much venom that Amelia flinched.

"No. but you did it. I'm not convinced, and I'm not letting this slide. Emma, I know you've always been thin. You've always danced and exercised and kept yourself healthy. I know that and I'm proud of you for it. But you- you are not just thin. You are bones wrapped in skin. I doubt if you're even five percent body fat. And I'm pissed at myself and your parents for not seeing it sooner. We were blind."

"Amelia, I'm fine-"

"Stop saying that! You aren't. You aren't, Emma bear. You need help," Her stoic niece rolled her eyes, as if she was simply being dramatic. Amelia knew then how deep her denial was. So, she resorted to pleading with the girl in an attempt to get through. "Baby, please. Let me help you. I'll do whatever it takes. Just admit it, okay?"

"I'm not admitting anything. I don't have a problem. Stop pestering me, please!" Emma grabbed her purse from the spot she'd tucked it into. "I'll leave, Amelia. I wanted to see my aunt I love because I missed her and my family's gone to crap. I didn't want to be accused and interrogated."

The older woman raised her hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. I'm done. Don't leave, all right? I missed you too, little girl," The tension melted from her shoulders. "So your dad still hasn't told you where he is?"

A look of deep confusion mixed with pain crossed Emma's face. "No. He's only called a few times anyway. I ask him, but he only tells me that he's not in New York anymore. I guess he's worried I'll tell Mom or something."

"Would you?"

"Well, no. He obviously doesn't want her to know, and her chasing him down isn't exactly going to persuade him to come home," She looked away, gnawing on her lower lip. "You're his sister. Does he always run away? Does he come back?"

Amelia shrugged helplessly. "He's never really been given the opportunity before. I mean, when our dad died, he was just a little kid. I guess he could've run, but he didn't. Then after the whole mess I created, he had Addie, and Annie. He couldn't."

"Having a wife and kid at home didn't stop him this time."

"Ah yes, but the two things that kept him grounded were the ones who let him down. I am surprised that he didn't take you with him. When I heard he'd left, I just assumed you had to."

Emma pursed her lips tightly. "I know. Me too. I'm glad he didn't, honestly. I think I would've hated him even more than I do now," Suddenly, Emma buried her face in her hands. "Oh, God. How am I supposed to fix this?"

Amelia jerked at the sudden outburst, eyebrows bunched together. "Hey, hey. You're okay, and you don't have to fix anything. You are the kid here. They are the adults. Let them solve their own problems."

Emma glanced back up at her, tears swimming in her ocean eyes. "I don't think they can."

* * *

Addison sighed and shook her head as her youngest daughter stormed out of the house. Her life was truly falling apart. Her girls had always been sweet and kind, and never trouble. Never anything worse than staying out past curfew a few times. She and Derek had once prided themselves on their daughters' behavior, bragging to anyone who would listen on how perfect their lives and children were. 0 for 2 now. Her marriage was gone, disintegrated from one night of pain, revenge, and downright loneliness. Her oldest daughter was gone, gallivanting through Europe and ignoring her parents. Not that she could blame her. Annie was a bit more aware of the real world than Emma; protected by a large adoring family.

But her little girl was not the same girl she'd been two months ago. Seeing what she had ruined her idea that her family was perfect and that fantasy melting away rested solely on Addison's shoulders. In a move that both her girls had inherited, Addison chewed on her bottom lip. She debated for a moment chasing after Emma, and having an honest conversation about what happened two months ago. She'd been horrible; cowardly avoiding her daughter by working even more than she normally did. Not only did she feel incredible guilt when she looked at Emma, the daughter who bore more Shepherd than Montgomery, she was reminded of her husband, the man she destroyed. But, chasing her teenager down the street would only cause her to run away faster. So, she stayed put, choosing to wallow in her self made pit of self-disgust.

Addison glanced the clock, wincing when she saw it was only one o'clock; still a few hours too early to crack open another bottle of wine. She slouched back into the couch, knowing the position would piss her mother off. A sick feeling settled in the pit of her stomach as she grabbed her phone to check her voicemails, hoping there would finally be one from Derek; an answer to one of the dozens she'd left. None from Derek, but one from Emma's school. From two months ago. She really was wife and mother of the year. She played the voicemail, listening carefully.

"Hello, Dr. Shepherd. This is Elizabeth Allen, Emma's English teacher. I'm just calling to check if there's anything going on at home. Emma just hasn't been herself lately, and frankly, she doesn't look well. I'm afraid- well I'm worried that she may have a serious problem. Please call me as soon as you can."

Addison felt her stomach clench at the woman's words. She knew her daughter was extremely close to her teacher, and if she was calling saying something was wrong, then something was wrong. But this was the _morning_ before she'd cheated on Derek. Had Emma really noticed how bad their marriage was getting before then? Possibly. But Emma had always come to her when she was upset- or go to Annie who would then come to her. No matter how, Emma always ended up with her. The red head jerked when the phone in her hand began to ring. The hospital. Of course. "Dr. Montgomery Shepherd…"

* * *

Emma hugged her aunt tightly outside of the coffee shop, not wanting to let go. Amelia pressed a quick kiss to the side of her niece's head. "I'm sorry, munchkin. I'm sure you probably came to me to relax, and I spent most of the time upsetting you."

The teen in her arms pursed her lips at the mention of the first part of their conversation, but let it slide. At least someone on noticed, even if she was too sick to even admit she had a problem. "It's okay. Just seeing you made me feel better. I missed you."

"Oh, I missed you too," Amelia leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially, "Don't tell anyone, but you're my best girl. Now, I wish I could spend the rest of the day together, but I'm so tired I'm surprised I didn't fall asleep talking to you. I've gotta get some sleep. Call me if you need me, okay? I'm always here."

Emma nodded and let her aunt hug her tightly again. She smiled sadly as she disappeared through the crowd of people. She knew what her aunt meant when she'd said she was her best girl. Amelia had a ton of nieces, and she loved them all, but she'd always been closer to Derek and Addie's girls. Derek had kept Annie away from his troubled little sister in her early years, and it wasn't until Emma came along they really reconnected. They'd been best friends ever since. She sighed as the same cloud of loneliness she'd been carrying before entering the coffee shop developed above her head again. She pulled out her small phone, determined to get a hold of her sister.

"Hello?" Annie's scratchy voice echoing in her ear actually surprised her.

"Annie?"

"Yeah, dork. Who else?"

Emma rolled her eyes, knowing her sister couldn't see. "What the hell, Annie? I've been calling you every day for weeks. Did you not get the idea that I needed to talk to you urgently?"

"Whoa, whoa. I think you're forgetting that I'm actually going to school here, Emma. I'm sorry I can't be there for like I usually am, but going to college and living 3,500 miles makes it a bit of a challenge. Now what's going on?"

Emma sighed, and bit her lower lip. All she'd wanted to do for weeks was talk to her sister about the disgraceful state of their family. Now, she couldn't even find the words she'd been dying to say. "You're not gonna like it, Ann."

"Okay, Emma you're starting to scare me. What the hell is going on?"

"Mom cheated on Dad and he left."

The other line was dead silent for so long, Emma thought her sister had hung up. "Annie?"

"I just… what?"

Emma laughed bitterly. "Do that for two months and you might be where I am right now. Let me start from the beginning. You noticed that Mom and Dad weren't themselves even before you left, right?"

"Yeah, but I just figured it was because I was leaving. It didn't get any better?"

"Nope. It got even worse. They were hardly at home together, and when they were Dad wouldn't even acknowledge Mom. It was really hurting her, so I guess she decided to hurt Dad. She- she slept with Un- with Mark."

"Oh, God," Annie's voice was dripping in disgust. "And Dad just left?"

"Well yeah. He walked in on them. We both kinda did. He just walked out of the house without a word to me. He's called a few times, but he won't tell me where he is."

Annie was quiet again for a few moments, and her little sister could tell she was blaming herself. So, she cut her pointless thoughts off. "Annie, none of this is your fault. Mom and Dad had been on the rocks for months, even before you left. This probably would've happened even if you went to NYU."

"I know that. I feel guilty for leaving you there alone to deal with it. I knew it was bad, and I should've said something for your sake. I could've warned you, at least. I'm an awful big sister."

"No you're not. You're the best big sister I have."

Annie laughed, and Emma's heart soared. "I'm the only big sister you have, but I appreciate the sentiment. Look, I'm flying out in a few weeks for break. Do you think you can hang on until I get there?"

"I'll have to, won't I? Hurry Annie."

"I'll try Emma bear. I miss you so much."

"I miss you more ugly. Call me soon okay? I mean it."

"I will, and I mean that too. I love you."

"Love you."

That was one thing off her list. Annie knew, and had handled it like she'd always done: by taking control and promising to clean up the whole mess. The thought of big sister swooping in and saving the day once more made her finally breathe easier and her heart race with excitement, and her head finally felt lighter without the weight of her parents on her mind.

Emma sighed as she realized she was home again, feeling completely retched. Her head ached and spun, and her body felt heavy; heavier than all the baggage she'd been carrying. She could barely walk. As soon as she stepped across the doorway, she knew she was home alone. Her heart still pounded through her chest as if she was preparing for another battle with her mother. Her breath raced out of her body, each exhale quicker than the last. With an out of body realization, Emma grasped for something, anything to catch her. The floor of the foyer had the honor.

* * *

Addison sighed in relief as the cab pulled up next to her front door around nine. She was exhausted to her core, deep in her bones. She wanted nothing more than her softest big pajama night shirt and fall into bed. Nothing sounded more perfect. She'd just spent seven hours saving a mother and her twins. The expectant mother had been in a car accident while on the way for a check up on her thirty four week old sons. A drunk driver pulled out of nowhere, slamming her car into an unmovable tree. Luckily, Addison was able to save all three of their lives. Another miracle performed by the superb Addison Montgomery. If only she could save her marriage the way she saved babies.

Addison handed her fare to the driver with a tired smile. It was drizzling softly outside, the air a mixture of humidity and cool breeze. She pulled her wool Burberry coat tighter around her thin frame as she hurried up her front steps, thoughts glued to her bed. In fact, she was so deep in her own thoughts; she barely registered the body sprawled out across her foyer. It look took her even longer to comprehend that it was her daughter. Her sweet beautiful baby girl. She dropped to her knees, reaching for her child. Emma's body was limp and frighteningly cold. A part of her- the double board certified surgeon part- knew to check for a pulse, and both parts of her were equally thrilled to find a one, albeit a weak one.

"Emma? Emma, baby can you hear me? Emma!" Her daughter didn't react. Addison cursed and reached wildly for her phone, Emma's head resting on her lap. She dialed 9-1-1 quickly, and ordered an ambulance to her house. As soon as knew there was help on the way, the red head dropped her phone and turned her full attention to her daughter. She cupped Emma's cold cheeks in her hands, gently patting her face. As her fingers connected with her daughter's soft skin, Addison realized the sharp points meeting her palm were her child's cheek bones, straining against her skin. Suddenly filled with even more concern, she let her green eyes work their way down the girl's body. As she took in Emma's frame, a boulder of dread fell to the pit of her stomach.

"Oh, God. What have I done?!"

* * *

 **I hope you guys are enjoying this version of the Shepherd family! So Addison finally realizing her daughter has a huge problem really gets the ball rolling, and I can't wait for it to reveal itself! Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

I'm sorry, but I don't think I can continue with this story. I feel as if I can't do it justice, and I'm getting the feeling that not very many people are interested. If someone wishes to continue this story, by all means, contact me and go ahead. I still want to write, and I am very thankful for those of you who reviewed and followed and favorited. I appreciate each and every one of you. I can't thank you guys enough for the love you gave Maybe She Wouldn't be Gone, and I'm sorry for letting you down with this. Thank you.


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